


Expected Results

by Zig_Zag_F1



Series: You Love Him [14]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Anger, Cuddles, Domestic Violence, Fighting, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, M/M, One-Sided Attraction (maybe?), Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Break Up, Sad, Super supportive Antonio, Triggers, Verbal Abuse, friends with benefits kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-31 08:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21126995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zig_Zag_F1/pseuds/Zig_Zag_F1
Summary: Charles calls Antonio in the middle of the night after a fight with Max.





	Expected Results

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why but the song You Love Him by Brighten made me want to write things based on each line so here I am. You don't have to listen to the song though, or read the fics in order.
> 
> This is line 14, if anyone cares to know.
> 
> NOTE: So, up to now in this weird series, I have not written anything that was connected or compatible with any of the other works. However, this is different. While you do not need to read it necessarily, the story Free From You is directly connected to this installment. While this is standalone, it could also been seen as a part 2. So just a head's up on that.  
ALSO: Read the Tags! TRIGGER WARNING for domestic violence even though it doesn't happen in the scene itself.

_"But baby, I already knew it."_

There's a very short list of people who call Antonio in the middle of the night. Lately none of them have taken to ringing him after midnight, so when his phone rings loudly at the ungodly hour of 3am, he isn't sure what's happening at first. But autopilot does what it's meant to do and he just picks up the phone, accepts the call, and in a very thick voice manages to mumble out a "Hello?"

There's static for a second, and heavy breathing, and Antonio pulls the phone away from his ear and blinks at the screen. _Charles. _

A weird twisting feeling began in his chest as he quickly put the phone back against his face. "Charles?"

"Yeah."

His voice is monotone. He breathes so heavily Antonio can hear it still. 

"What's up? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Shouldn't have called. Don't worry about it." Charles still sounds blank, but he also sounds a bit defeated.

"Something happened with Max?" 

There's a long pause. "Yeah."

Antonio's heart rate picks up, both with concern and with something that feels a little too much like vindication. He shuts that feeling out. He has the dubious honor of being right about what would happen between Max and Charles if Charles went back, sure, but it's an honor he definitely didn't enjoy. "What happened?"

Charles doesn't answer for a long moment, but just before Antonio is about to ask him something else, he speaks. "We got into a fight. Broke up again. This time it's over."

Antonio doesn't know if he buys the last statement, but that can wait. "Where are you? Do you need me to pick you up?"

"No. I'm...driving to your place actually. I hope that's okay. I just couldn't decide where to go and I had to get out."

"Of course, of course it's okay," Antonio reassures him, words jumping out a bit too fast. "I'll unlock the door."

"I'm sorry, I know it's way too late."

"No, it's fine."

"I really shouldn't bother you."

"Charles, I'm already awake. It's all good. I'll see you when you get here."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye," Antonio says, but he waits for Charles to hang up just in case he had something more to say. He doesn't. 

Slowly Antonio pulls himself to his feet and puts a shirt on to go with his athletic shorts, mind filling with confused thoughts over what Charles would be like when he arrived. _What should I do? What does he need me to do? Is there anything I even can do?_

Another jangling fear is bothering his sleepy brain as well. _How long will this last? Will he go back again?_

It's never been Antonio's business to ask questions about Charles' relationships. After all, he was nothing officially important, nothing more than a fuckbuddy and kind-of friend. But really, the friendly things always devolved into less friend appropriate behavior, so really, what was he to Charles? _Someone who is far enough away to be unaffected and close enough to reach for if need be,_ he thinks cynically as he stumbles out to the kitchen and pours a glass of water for himself and starts the coffeepot as well in case Charles doesn't want to sleep. 

After a moment he pours Charles a glass of water as well, and he thinks that it's ironic because the last time he poured Charles water was the night he went back to Max and he never drank it.

He goes into the livingroom too, pulls a blanket and pillow out of the closet and tosses them on the couch. _Just like old times, _he thinks bitterly. He wants to feel some kind of betrayal and anger at Charles for putting himself back into what was obviously a volatile and contentious relationship. He wants to feel some kind of self-importance in the knowledge that he was right, he knew all along that it would never go well. He wants to tell Charles off because _I care about you and he does things that prove he doesn't _but he can't bring himself to feel any of those things because he understands how Charles must feel, how hard it must be for him to choose. _I love him_, Charles has always insisted, and Antonio knows breaking away from that feeling of intoxication is brutal.

He admits to himself that he hasn't really gotten rid of that feeling when it comes to Charles, even in the past four months of watching him and Max spend time together. He's always known this would happen, that's why he told Charles to call. 

Somehow, he's also always known he would answer. He debates with himself whether that's pathetic or loyal while he sits in the kitchen, drinking his glass of water and staring out the dark window. Nothing can be seen there except his own reflection.

When he hears the knock, his heart makes a strange wild movement even though he's been expecting it all this time. He exhales deeply as he walks to open it, not sure why he feels the need to calm himself first.

He opens the door and Charles is there, hoodie around his face and pulled low over his eyes. It's not properly raining anymore, but Antonio knows it was storming earlier. Now there are only tiny drops sprinkling down. Charles' gray hoodie is speckled with them.

Antonio holds the door open and Charles comes in. There's no bag with him, and his shoes are soaked, and he doesn't pull his hoodie down or say anything. Instead he just kicks off his shoes, revealing wet socks underneath. He peels those off as well and shoves them into his shoes. 

"No, you can hang them up on the hooks," Antonio says awkwardly, removing his jacket from the rack behind the door. Wordlessly, Charles lays the wet socks over the hooks and dries his hands on his hoodie. 

Antonio doesn't know what to say. 

Charles says nothing, seemingly now very unsure of himself. 

After a moment, Antonio decides to just plunge ahead. "Do you want anything? Water, or coffee, or food?"

Charles shakes his head. 

Undeterred, Antonio snakes an arm around his back and pushes him towards the kitchen. "Well, I'm thirsty and if I'm going to keep going I need coffee."

"I'm sorry for waking you up," Charles finally says.

Antonio waves him off and drags a chair away from the bar and gently nudges him towards it. "Coffee?" He asks.

Charles sits down at the kitchen bar and shakes his head, fingers playing with the edge of his hood that he still hasn't removed. 

Antonio notices, he already noticed at the door, but he says nothing about it. "Here." He pushes the cup of water in front of Charles. He doesn't really know what he's doing, or what else he should be doing, or if he can do anything else at all, but he's trying.

Charles drinks the water, at least.

Antonio pours himself coffee and leans against the bar next to Charles. There's silence for several long seconds before Antonio decides to rip off the band-aid. "You want to tell me what happened?" He tries to keep his voice as level as possible, he doesn't want to pressure him, but _come on, Charles, say something._

Charles sighs. "It was a stupid fight. Max was jealous that I've been hanging out with Daniel so much. It's not like that, you know, but Max..."

"Yeah, I know."

Charles glances at him for the first time since he's arrived and Antonio sees just a flash of something that confirms what he's suspected. Gently, he reaches out and pulls off Charles' hood. Charles looks down, but he doesn't resist.

Antonio can see the cuts now, several of them, all of them jagged, all of them on the left side of Charles' face. Charles meets his eyes for an instant and then avoids them again.

Steadying his speeding brain, Antonio forces himself not to react much. "That looks bad. What happened?"

"I shoved him, after he started getting in my face about Daniel. Then we started shoving and punching and I guess...it got out of hand. He hit me with a wine glass and it shattered."

"Jesus, and he didn't do anything about it?" Antonio is fighting the anger inside his body, and he can't exactly pinpoint what is making him so angry, but he knows he's definitely angry at Max. 

Charles shakes his head. 

_Jesus Christ. _"Did you clean it out?" 

Charles nods. "The glass is gone. It just looks bad. I don't know how I'll...hide it."

Antonio hadn't even thought about that. In his mind it's not really a priority right now. "I'm sure they'll give you a cover story for the press."

Charles nods, but Antonio can tell he's far away. He nudges Charles' shoulder. "Come on, let's go sit in the livingroom. It's more comfortable."

They sit on the couch, and Antonio sits down a few inches from Charles, hoping that he's close enough and far enough at the same time. He's surprised when Charles moves, sliding closer to him until there's no space between. Hesitantly, Antonio puts his arm around Charles. When he doesn't push him away, he pulls Charles in to lean on his shoulder. 

His heart is beating too quickly, afraid because he knows that Charles isn't one for non-sexual demonstrations, at least when it comes to him, but Charles seems to welcome it, closing his eyes and making no attempt to move.

Antonio feels grateful for that. He slowly runs his hand up and down Charles' arm, over and over. They don't speak. Antonio drinks his coffee and holds Charles, and Charles let him.

They are both startled by a sudden ring tone, and Antonio knows it's not his. Charles is frantically checking his pockets, and he pulls out his phone and it's Max.

_No, please no. Don't do it this time. Please don't. _

Charles knows Antonio can see who it is as well, and they share a look before Charles suddenly buries his head in Antonio's shoulder. Shocked, Antonio can only put an arm around him as he registers the fact that Charles is initiating contact for the first time he can remember. 

"Don't answer it," he says, holding out his hand. "Let me put it away. You shouldn't talk to him right now." And Charles shoves the phone into his palm. Antonio can hardly breathe, but he keeps calm as he declines the call and powers down the phone. "There. It's off."

Charles sits up, and Antonio catches the fact that he's blinking away tears. Not sure what to say, he just gives his shoulders a little squeeze. "You okay?" 

"Fuck Max," Charles whispers, leaning his head against Antonio's shoulder again. Antonio says nothing, afraid to say the wrong thing. "He's probably calling to apologize."

"He shouldn't bother," Antonio blurts out harshly. "He should leave you the fuck alone. He's done enough."

Charles says nothing, and Antonio can feel his breath against the side of his neck and he likes that feeling. He savors the way Charles' hair brushes against his cheek. 

"I thought it would be different, but it wasn't," Charles finally murmurs, like it's an admission he doesn't want to make. He looks up at Antonio for a second. "You knew."

Antonio doesn't answer. His fingers find their way to the uninjured part of Charles' cheek. 

"I don't want to go back," Charles whispers then, and Antonio closes his eyes-_please don't._

"You shouldn't," he says aloud, and Charles sits up to look at him, because Antonio hasn't ever offered an opinion before. "It'll never change. You'll always fall back into fighting."

"I know," Charles says. 

"Even if you love him," Antonio adds firmly, trying to keep his feelings out of it as much as possible. _As long as he doesn't go back, it's okay if he doesn't love me._ The thought is a strange one, because he's never really thought that he loves Charles, but now that he thinks of it, it's obvious. The knowledge doesn't hit him like lightning. Instead, it's just sort of been there all along.

_I guess I do love him._

Charles is leaning against him again, tears dried, but clearly not okay. "I'm not doing it again. Don't let me answer the phone," he says into Antonio's shirt, and Antonio's breath trips a little at the words and the implicit trust involved.

"I won't," he promises, and he'd sooner fight to the death.

Charles yawns, and Antonio looks up. It's after 4am now, and he is still tired too, but he doesn't want to move Charles or push him away. He wants this, he wants to have this while it lasts, however long it lasts, and he wants Charles to be close. 

"I'm tired," Charles whispers, and Antonio knows he will have to let him go. "Aren't you?"

"A bit," Antonio admits, wishing he wasn't. 

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

"I want you to be okay," Antonio finds himself saying. He looks at Charles quickly, worried he's said something too forward.

But Charles smiles a little, and then he surprises Antonio by reaching up and pulling his face close and kissing him, lips chapped and slightly damp and face a little flushed with emotion.

Antonio gives in, barely able to react, eyes falling closed to focus on the touch. Charles runs his hands through Antonio's hair, and Antonio has missed that, and it feels better than he remembered. He gently puts his hand on the back of Charles' neck and kisses him back, letting Charles nibble at his lips almost imperceptibly. 

When they separate, Charles is sitting up, and he runs his hand through Antonio's hair again, pushing it back out of his face. 

"Come on, let's go back to bed," Charles says, standing up and taking his hand, pulling at him lightly. And Antonio is lost, barely aware, overwhelmed by thoughts-_Fuck, I missed you._

Another thought crowds in, and it's unpleasant, and it spoils the moment for him as he looks into Charles' eyes. "Listen, I...I don't want to have sex right now. I wouldn't feel right." It's the only reason Charles would go to the bedroom with him. Charles doesn't sleep with him, never has. He's worried that turning Charles down might make him disappointed, and of course he wants Charles, _always, every day, how could I not,_ but he also knows he can't, not like this.

Charles doesn't release his hand. "I don't mean that," he says softly, and Antonio knows he's aware of the past, aware of how he's never done this before. "I just want to sleep. And I thought...maybe you wouldn't mind." He looks like he feels stupid now.

Antonio stands up quickly and his brain falls over itself trying to fix things. "No, no, no, of course, I don't mind, I just thought..." 

Charles kisses him again, this time just a brush, and Antonio thinks there's relief in his voice when he says, "Okay."

They leave the cell phone off in the livingroom. Antonio feels better knowing that.

In the bedroom, Charles pulls off his hoodie and Antonio sits down on the bed, looking at him. He can see that the shirt underneath is bloody and so are Charles' jeans. 

"Do you want to borrow some clothing?"

Charles glances at him. "If you don't mind...I didn't want to go back in and get anything."

Antonio nods and rummages through his drawers, throwing Charles a black t-shirt and some loose athletic shorts. They're almost the same size anyway.

He watches as Charles changes, but not in a lustful way. There's something oddly comforting about watching Charles put on his clothing, almost like he won't disappear immediately like he always seems to do.

He notes the partially healed bruises on Charles' back, and the scrape on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and when Charles looks at him again, he smiles. 

They lay down together, at first a little apart, but when Antonio reaches for him, Charles rolls into him, head on his shoulder again. Antonio wraps his arms around him and looks at the ceiling, trying to save the feeling in his head so he won't forget what it feels like right now. 

He kisses Charles' forehead, and Charles catches his lips, and they share a few slow, sleepy kisses before coming apart again. 

"Thank you," Charles whispers into the dark. 

"Of course," Antonio whispers back, and for now, for this moment, he lets his mind go, lets it fill with hope. 

He dares to hope that when he wakes, Charles will still be here, and if he is lucky-_maybe he will stay. _

**Author's Note:**

> So, I mean, that was a little nicer, sort of? Well, I tried anyway. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!  
There is a third part to this series with these two up on my page, it is called "Different Now." 
> 
> No offense of course was meant to Max, who I definitely do like, this is all just fictional of course as always. Don't come for me.  
Please don't copy, paste, post, etc any of this to anywhere else for any reason, thank you very much.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
